


Recovery

by somnialScribe



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Community: dckinkmeme, Dark Dick Grayson, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Hurt Tim Drake, Intersex Omegas, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Kidnapping, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Tim Drake, Omega/Omega Relationship, One-Sided Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pseudo-Incest, Slow To Update, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnialScribe/pseuds/somnialScribe
Summary: For the first time in years, Tim Drake is content with life.He and Jason have a wonderful relationship. His ties with his family are stronger than ever, and the rift between them and Jason is mending with each day. His friends are all alive, happy, and working as a team. Gotham is a handful as always but is more manageable with everyone on the same page.But suddenly his world is turned on its head when he awakens from a drugged sleep to find himself trapped. The place is familiar, as is his jailer, but this is not the Dick Grayson he knew. Gone is his older brother and in his place is an alpha desperate to make Tim his - no matter what.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 22
Kudos: 169





	1. A Bird in Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Spawned from [this prompt](https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1454.html?thread=2603694) on the DC Kink Meme.
> 
> Disclaimers: Look at the tags thoroughly. Pertinent tags will appear in the notes at the beginning of each chapter.  
> This story will be told partially in medias res, with characters connecting the dots and remembering events. If you have a question, you can still ask it - but all I might say is "that gets covered later".  
> I struggled with the idea of having Dick use Romanes in this fanfic but ultimately scrapped the idea. He's been out of touch with the Romani community for some twenty-odd years at this point, and I did not want to be disrespectful in my portrayal of a Romani character. Considering the content of this fic I decided to err on the side of caution.

Collapsed against each other on an overstuffed couch, Tim Drake and Dick Grayson were in the midst of one of their more impromptu movie marathons. Surrounding them was a circle of junk food carnage, empty chip bags and takeout containers strewn about with little care of where they landed. On the television screen opposite them the third monologue of the movie began, prompting Dick to crumple up the candy wrapper in his hand and, with an accompanying boo, throw it at the television. Tim snorted as it hit the overly-dramatic villain square in the forehead. “Come on, it isn’t _that_ bad,” he said with a grin which made it obvious that he knew just how corny the 60s sci-fi flick he had put on was. Dick wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“I hear enough of this at my night job,” he complained with a poke to Tim’s side. His brother quickly retaliated with a kick to his foot, which led to pinch, which ended in Tim diving for the pillows piled up at the opposite end of the couch. The omega used them as shield and weapon both, blocking his vulnerable torso with one while lobbing the other at Dick’s head. The first hit caught Dick almost off-guard, clipping part of his face where his arm was too slow to block it, and he bounced it off to the side where it smacked into a nearly empty bowl sitting on the coffee table. The spray of kernels and popcorn alike was ignored by them both, too caught up in rough housing to mind the newest addition to their mess.

With no pillows on his side of the couch, Dick was left with his bare hands. He tore the pillow covering Tim’s torso out of the younger man's hand and snuck his fingers under the borrowed sweater Tim was wearing. Tim let out a shriek of protest as soon as his fingertips made contact and grabbed the cushion now on the floor beside them. A hand still on his pillow and the other yanking down his clothes in an attempt to stop Dick from tickling him, Tim dug into the couch with one foot for balance as he drove a bony knee into the alpha hovering over him, following up with a firm smack of the pillow to Dick’s unguarded ear. The blows only deterred him for a few moments before his assault began in earnest; within seconds, Tim was too busy laughing to coordinate any further attacks and was reduced to trying - unsuccessfully - to shove Dick's hands away.

"Uncle! Uncle!" Tim gasped out, red-faced and near tears. "I yield! Truce, forfeit, surrender!" Before the omega could rattle off more synonyms, Dick seemed to feel pity for his packmate and relented, forearms still trapped under the oversized blue sweater Tim wore. Once he gained enough control over his body, Tim sat up. Dick's hands slid out of his sweater with the movement. They rested easily on Tim's narrow hips, thumbs on the slice of skin still uncovered by Tim's shirt riding up.

The alpha stared intently at Tim as the smaller man wiped at his eyes and wound down from hysterical laughter, letting out a few chuckles here and there. Dick leaned a bit closer, mouth opening to speak, but before he could say a word Tim had already pulled himself out of Dick's loose hold.

"I gotta use the bathroom. You can put on a different movie if you're sure you won't survive sitting through this one," Tim said with a stretch, popcorn and plastic crunching under his feet. As he passed by Dick he playfully shoved his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I'll definitely consider it," Dick quipped back. Tim snorted and entered the hall leading to the bathroom, hesitating in front of the thin table there. On top of it was the bin he and Dick put all their phones, pagers, communicators, and various electronics at the start of each night. He could see a green light blinking on his personal phone, which meant only one thing - Jason had texted him.

After one too many nights of Tim working through half their time together or even leaving early to do this or that for someone or something, Dick had put his foot down and strongly suggested this solution. His personal phone wasn't even supposed to be on; only their emergency contact lines were. But neither of them must have noticed and now he knew his boyfriend had sent a message and the urge to at least read it was hard to ignore.

 _Dick doesn't need to know. And Jason's in the middle of a mission. If I don't respond right away he might not even see it until he's on his way home,_ he tried to rationalise to himself.

Glancing back down the hall to the bend leading to the living room, Tim could hear Dick moving around in the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. Guilt twisted in his stomach but, in the end, he snatched the phone and stuffed it in his sweatpants pocket before quickly shuffling to the bathroom.

As he used the toilet and washed his hands, the phone in his pocket was a heavy weight. Though he didn't want to spoil the evening in one way or another, there was no telling how long Jason would be gone, or how much contact they would have. It could be days, or it could be months, or somewhere in between; not so much as a text the entire time, or daily calls that would still feel far too short no matter how long they went.

Tim slapped his hands dry on his sweatpants before pulling out his phone. He had unlocked it and opened his text messages, scrolling to find "Jared Pierce" - one of Jason's aliases - when someone knocked on the door. Fumbling the phone, the omega quickly locked it again and held it behind his back as Dick spoke from the other side of the door.

"Tim?"

"I'm almost done! Be out in like five minutes," he answered, returning to his phone.

"Funny, 'cuz it usually takes you ten to reply to Jay, at minimum," Dick replied, tone airy despite his accusation. Tim grimaced and, feeling like a child being scolded for running through a store, opened the door. Dick stood there leaning against the frame with what could only be described as an annoyed pout on his face. He unfolded his arms to hold out an expectant hand and Tim cringed as he passed him the phone.

"Sorry," Tim said, more to fill the awkward silence than anything. Dick sighed.

"We both know you're only sorry you got caught." Tim bristled a bit but tamped down on the urge to escalate things by disputing that point. Instead he followed Dick back down the hall and into the living room. Once he was certain he could keep any lingering anger or annoyance out of his tone, he spoke up.

"This is the first time he's been able to text since he left. I just wanted to know he was alright," he defended himself as they came to a stop in the kitchen. "It's not like I was planning to run off."

"It wouldn't be the first time." Tim inhaled sharply through his teeth as he clenched his hands into tight fists, feeling more winded than if Dick had punched him right in the gut.

"Can we not have this conversation again? Please?" Tim begged as Dick stood in front of the counter, adding whipped cream to the two mugs of hot chocolate sitting there. The alpha’s usually bright, fresh scent - crisp morning air and the first notes of rain before a storm underscored by warm cinnamon - was now stifled by tightly-controlled anger. When Dick failed to reply and instead started opening a bottle of bat-shaped sprinkles, Tim stepped closer and wrapped his arms around his brother. The tension in Dick's body bled away with an exhale as he paused in his task to give Tim a brief one-armed squeeze. 

"Sorry, Timmy," Dick apologised with a strained smile. "I know you have a busy life. It just … sometimes it feels like I basically have to kidnap you just to get your attention, you know? You mean so much to me and I love you so much, it's just - hard."

The guilt in the pit of Tim's stomach intensified, coalescing into a deeper pool of self-loathing. "I know. I love you too." He picked up his mug, black with a blue Nightwing logo on the front, and took a sip in lieu of saying more. No matter how many times they stumbled back into a fight like this, they never managed to fully resolve things; given how crowded Tim’s schedule admittedly was, they often ended up ignoring all the issues currently chafing at their relationship. Tim could tell that it would soon come to a head but, for now, that disaster appeared to have been averted.

With his own mug - also black, but with the Red Robin insignia instead - in hand, Dick wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulder and briefly nuzzled the top of his head before letting go to return to the living room. Following him, Tim rolled his eyes when Dick simply vaulted the sofa’s armrest, getting to his seat without so much as spilling his drink.

“Show off,” the omega said fondly, simply dragging his own socked feet through the mess of popcorn between the sofa and coffee table to avoid stepping on anything unpleasant. Once on the cushion beside Dick, he knocked off the few crumbs sticking to his toes with one hand.

“All day every day,” Dick joked back, wrapping an arm around Tim and pulling him close. The younger vigilante huffed and leaned into his side again, hands cupping around his mug to capture its warmth.

“And you’re lucky you’re a furnace.”

“Mhm,” Dick hummed in reply, resuming the movie.

Tim sipped at his hot chocolate with a soft smile. The monologue they had paused during was soon over and the plot clambered on. Their companionable silence was punctuated by small off-handed jokes at the cheap movie’s expense, but every time a pun was uttered Tim could still feel Dick’s laughter where their sides were pressed together even when he was being quiet. As the minutes passed by and his cup emptied, Tim found his eyes sliding shut of their own accord. With a small yawn, he rubbed at his eyes and stretched his spine with a pop. Feeling the weight of Dick’s gaze on him, he raised an eyebrow at the alpha, who merely glanced away with a smile.

The next time his eyes slipped shut, he found himself jerking awake, thoughts fuzzy. In practically any other setting, Tim would find himself concerned - but he was safe, in his older brother’s apartment, watching movies with him. There was no way he had been drugged. Not without it happening to Dick too, at least, and a quick look found him meeting Dick’s sharp eyes. The alpha smiled softly at him and reached up to card his fingers through Tim’s hair, pulling his lax body closer until his head was resting over his heart. With confusion Tim realised he no longer had his mug in his hands; instead it was on the coffee table with Dick’s, but he had no recollection of it being taken, or Dick moving.

As if able to sense Tim’s suddenly tangled thoughts, Dick pressed a kiss to his temple. “Shhh,” he soothed. “Just sleep. You’re okay, Timmy.”

Finding himself incapable of doing anything else, Tim sank into the dreamless abyss that awaited him.


	2. A Gilded Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wakes up, has a conversation, and finds his world crashing down around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends on something of a cliffhanger, but I wanted to get this posted sooner rather than later because that's what I - as a reader - would prefer.
> 
> I also [have a Twitter now](https://twitter.com/somnialScribe) so feel free to follow me there for updates on word counts and the like. Please note that I may RT art of triggering subjects.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: disregard for bodily autonomy, violence, and non-consensual kissing from someone the perspective character considers a brother (aka incest)

Every time Tim almost breached the surface of sleep and back into wakefulness, he sank back under. His hazy mind could think of no reasons to resist its siren call, promising sanctuary and comfort from the waking world and its cruelties; vague, unknown hardships and heartaches which could not harm him from the depths of slumber. When he finally emerged from sleep he was cotton-brained but content, for once, to allow himself to linger in bed. Even with the progress he had been making on taking care of himself and balancing personal needs around work instead of the other way around, he felt better rested than he had in ages. He stretched with a deep inhale, joints popping and limbs trembling with the tingling burn of disuse, before letting out his breath in a pleased hum.

And then the memories of his last waking moments hit him like a freight train.

Tim was on his feet in an instant, surveying the room's pale yellow walls and honey-brown wooden furniture distrustfully. At first glance, he recognised it as one of Dick's safe houses, an old warehouse at the Bludhaven docks which had been converted into a living space and garage. Given how many smuggling cases involved stakeouts in the general area, it was one that Tim had been to with some actual frequency; what remained to be seen, however, was why he was here _now_. 

If he had been injured in some way that would result in memory loss, he would be in the Cave or at the Manor, barring some even greater issue at hand. Glancing around the room as he continued to try and puzzle out what was going on, Tim noticed a glass of water on the nightstand nearest to him, along with two pill bottles. The labels revealed their contents as anti-nauseants and ibuprofen but - given that he highly suspected he had recently been drugged - he was reluctant to take them, as much as his stomach and head would no doubt appreciate it.

As he put the pill bottles back, his attention shifted to the photo frame there. Safe houses were meant to be featureless, giving no clues as to who they belonged to. It was a security risk to have anything personal laying around. The last time he was here there had been nothing like this laying around. With a slight frown he picked it up, eyes widening in surprise as he came face-to-face with the picture taken the same fateful day the Graysons and the Drakes had met, just hours before tragedy struck and left Dick alone in the world.

Tim traced a thumb over the young face of his older brother, kneeling on the ground with him sitting on one knee. Their parents - nothing left of the four but bones and memories - stood behind them, fathers on the left and mothers on the right. He could tell without opening the frame that the photograph was the original, gifted to Dick some years ago in an album along with others of which Tim had taken himself. It only added to his confusion.

"It's incredible, isn't it?"

Freezing for a moment out of surprise, Tim slowly glanced up at Dick, the other man looking at him with a sad but gentle fondness as he closed the bedroom door behind him. "What is?" he asked, relaxing his stance even as Dick crossed the room to join him. The alpha pressed close enough to rest his head against Tim's as he looked down at the photograph, one arm habitually wrapping around the omega's waist.

"Just … what that day started. Us meeting. Bruce taking me in. Robin. You figuring it all out," Dick explained. "We'd all be in pretty different places now if none of that happened - and even if it was only for a few minutes, I'm happy our parents met, and mine met you. They liked you."

Tim felt something unspeakably tender and wistful welling up in his chest at Dick's confession, a somber kind of heartache. Before it could distract him he locked it away. If need be, he would inspect it in the future, once he was back in Gotham proper.

"I'm glad. They were great people. I know they'd be proud of you," he offered in reply, setting the frame carefully back in its place. Dick gave him a squeeze and a kiss on the temple before turning his attention to the night stand with a frown that Tim could feel against his skin.

"Even if you don't take any pills, you should at least drink your water," the alpha chided him, picking up the glass to offer it to Tim expectantly. "Then I'll make us a late lunch." Tim paused with his fingers halfway around the glass before forcing himself to take it.

"Late lunch? What time is it?" Tim asked casually, anxiety kicking up another notch.

All of this was strange, even for their family, and his unease only intensified when Dick answered, "Just before two."

Tim let out a curse as he set down the water. "I can't stay. I have a stakeout to get ready for," Tim explained as he moved to escape Dick's hold, only for the alpha to pull him even closer.

"You aren't going on a stakeout. You're going to stay here and rest," Dick said sternly, underlining his words with a low growl of warning when the omega in his arms continued to struggle. Tim jerked back in surprise at the noise, unused to being on the wrong end of such an aggressive display from his brother. "I'm done with watching you put everyone and everything before your own needs and wants, Tim."

"Dick. You're my brother. I respect you. But I'm an adult. I can make my own choices," Tim replied with a sharpness straight from the boardroom, allowing his scent to convey his annoyance. When Dick still failed to unhand him despite the growing smell of fruit turning overly ripe and sickly sweet, Tim twisted around to stare the taller man in the eyes, thumb subtly digging into the tendons of Dick's wrist. There was a growl in his own words as he demanded, "Let. Go. Of. Me." With each word he pressed harder and harder, but before Dick's grip could give out the alpha let go and shoved Tim backwards instead.

Tim stumbled but managed to stay on his feet as his legs hit the side of the mattress, only to have his balance tipped over by Dick grabbing him by the biceps and pushing him down to the unmade bed. Snarling viciously enough that most people - including alphas - would at least be taken aback and second guess their actions, Tim struck up with both hands to jab at Dick's ribs. The taller man took the hits with a grunt of pain and switched his hold to Tim's thin wrists instead, pinning them above the omega's head with one large hand. The other hand went to Tim's left knee as Tim used the right to slam into Dick's gut, only to end up with his last limb rendered immobile by a shin crossing his thigh. 

Face flushed from the brief struggle as much as from fury, Tim glared up at his brother to disguise his shame at being so easily subdued - as much as he knew, logically, that Dick was larger and stronger and more experienced than him, it always stung his pride to be outclassed. He would confess to himself that some small part of it was due to stereotypes about omegas being weak and inferior to alphas, but the fact was that a fear of failure had been instilled in him from a young age. While he knew Dick would never really hurt him like a villain might, he would rather any number of injuries over disappointing someone he looked up to like he did the alpha.

"I don't even understand what you mean," Tim grit out between clenched teeth, muscles rigid from head to foot. "I'm actually taking care of myself." Dick let out a deep sigh before leaning down and resting their foreheads together.

"But I'm still worried about you, sweetheart," Dick confessed softly, sky blue eyes somber. "I never should have let it get this far."

Tim wracked his brains, trying to determine just what Dick meant. Even with Jason gone at the moment he was doing well, as he had said. With his current sabbatical from Wayne Enterprises, it made his system of checks and balances and alarms easier to adhere to, with less on his plate to spread himself thin for. At a loss and finally ready to admit it, Tim rolled his eyes dramatically and demanded, " _What_ should you have never let get this far?"

"This _thing_ with Jason!" Dick all but spat out, trembling with fury. Tim's mouth dropped open at the outburst, pulse kicking up a notch as Dick's scent changed from _calm protective worried_ to _angry possessive betrayed_ in a heartbeat. Something too close to _fear_ for his liking prickled up his spine like dozens of needles and set his nerves further on edge. At Tim's distressed reaction Dick let out a shaky exhale and dropped his head to the omega's shoulder, reeling in his emotions enough to speak without shouting. His voice was hoarse but full of conviction when he said, "You've given enough of yourself, _too_ much of yourself, to the mission over the years. I know that we all want Jason back, that you were doing this for Bruce - but it isn’t worth this price. Not _you_."

For once lost for words, Tim silently opened and closed his mouth for a few moments before anger overcame his shock. "Despite what you apparently think, I'm not pretending to love him," he snarled as he tore his wrists from Dick's relaxed grip. Though Dick was quick to react, jerking upright from his previous position blanketing Tim, Tim was faster. Yanking Dick's shirt up and over his head to blind him, Tim wrapped one arm around his neck and rained blow after blow on top of his head. Though his range of motion was limited by still being pressed into the mattress, making each punch less effective overall, it was more than enough to ensure Dick felt it. With a snarl of pain and outrage, the alpha curled one arm protectively over his skull. Rather than struggle with the shirt restricting his vision, Dick instead kept the more vulnerable parts of his face tucked against Tim's chest and used his free hand to locate the omega's wrist by dragging his palm up the flailing limb starting from the shoulder. Dizzy as he was both from lack of oxygen and repeated hits to the head, he still managed to restrain Tim's arm and only tightened his grip when the younger man tried to buck him off in a panic. That panic only increased when a large hand forced its way under Tim's neck and _squeezed_.

While Tim had gone through desensitisation training specifically for the hold Dick currently had on him, he only managed a few moments of thrashing before his body slowly went lax. The distressed noise he was unaware he was even making tapered off into a garbled whine and he felt tears of rage and embarrassment stinging his eyes. Dick carefully sat up, tugging down his shirt with his free hand before cupping the side of Tim's face with a comforting sound. "It's okay, Timmy," he soothed as he watched the omega's pupils slowly dilate from prolonged scruffing. Tim could only stare up at him in hurt and betrayal; Dick's ability to use this part of his biology against him directly correlated with their pack bond. As an alpha and someone higher up in the hierarchy than him, his body was primed to defer to Dick's authority. That vulnerability came with trust - and Dick breaking that trust had just tipped the scales. While Bats regularly pushed beyond normal boundaries with each other, they each still had their limits.

Once Dick released his neck in favour of running his fingers through Tim's hair, still making quiet noises of comfort, Tim managed to inhale shakily. The burn that came with filling his lungs was a surprise which told him that he had been holding his breath. He loathed the way being scruffed made the soft scrape of blunt nails along his scalp that much nicer, the formerly oppressive weight of Dick's body over his almost comforting. Tim clenched his eyes shut in an attempt to get his thoughts in order.

"It’s okay, Timmy," Dick repeated sadly, tracing along Tim's closed eye with a thumb as he gently cradled his face; a tear slipped free of his lashes and fell into his dishevelled hair. "You’re safe now, sweetheart.." Something about his tone - almost choked, full of warmth and sincerity - made Tim open his eyes, unease churning in his gut.

And then Dick pressed their lips together in a kiss.


End file.
